


Valentine

by Churbooseanon



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 14:06:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1985769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Churbooseanon/pseuds/Churbooseanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He makes sweets in secret and hopes to use them to catch Wyoming's eye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valentine

He gets up a three in the morning on what the calendars say is Feburary fourteenth back on Earth. There are plans to set in motion that he can’t waste time on, so he forces himself to come awake quickly, forces his legs to move, his arms to work, his eyes to open despite the fact that he’d only gotten to sleep three hours before.

The cafeteria is abandoned, one of the few points in the day it is. It’s one of the few places on the ship that isn’t on the triple shifts of the rest of the Mother of Invention. Cafeteria shuts down at nine at night and doesn’t open again until five in the morning and if anyone needed anyone between those hours it was up to them to handle it for themselves. Freelancers either learned to get good at the basics, or to beg their fellows for help if they needed something late at night. Most people went to North, who had a way with cooking that no one could quite explain, not even his sister.

They all think that it’s North who makes the small baked treats that appear in people’s lockers on their birthdays. North’s never said he didn’t, and everyone just assumed the little cupcake that had appeared in his locker on his and South’s birthday had been a joke.

Florida pulls down the flour, the baking chocolate, hauls the freeze dried strawberries out of a cabinet, smiles at the fact that they’d never guess. Drags out bowls and whisks and measuring spoons. Lays out his little army of supplies on a stretch of counter top and evaluates them like soldiers about to go into war. Today is the day. Today he does it. Today he…

"Ah, Florida, I wasn’t expecting to see you here."

Freezes over his tools and takes a deep breath before he looks up and smiles disarmingly at the moustachioed man standing in the entrance of the kitchen.

"Wyoming," he greets, and holds back a string of curses. He was supposed to be asleep. "What are you doing up at this hour?"

"Ah, yes, Gamma was having issues with sleeping," Wyoming observes, striding into the kitchen, letting his eyes trail over the arrangement of supplies before Florida, quirking an eyebrow in question.

"Seems all the fragments have that issue," Florida answers, smiling softly. "I’ve seen York and Maine wandering the halls some night. North has started to as well."

"Yes. Gamma believes it is their inability to easily ‘shut down’ as it were that leads to the problems," Wyoming says, coming to lean across the counter from Florida. Gives everything another, more pointed look.

"That is good information to have. Thank you, Agent Wyoming."

The look Wyoming gives him says ‘answer now or I’m going to be cross.’ His lips say, “So you’re the one making the birthday treats.”

"Caught me," Florida admits with a grin and a sick feeling in his stomach. He was going to make the small cake. Frost it and press strawberries cut like little hearts into it. Leave it in Wyoming’s locker. No explanation, no answers, just there. Let everyone boggle over North, watch him blush as he denied it. Stand there and laugh with them and contemplate the look Reggie wore and…

"Whose birthday is it?"

Florida looks up from his neatly arrayed tools and meets Wyoming’s smoky eyes. “What?”

"Whose birthday?"

Thinks fast, shuffles through answers, who can he pin it on? At last pulls out the only answer that works. “Mine. Can’t keep up the charade if one of us doesn’t get a treat. But I suppose the cat’s out of the bag now.”

Wyoming nods, as if it was what he expected, then leans back. “It would be a shame to ruin the fun. I say still make it. In fact, I’ll help you.”

Florida wants to tell him no. Wants to send him away and let the whole charade be over. Wants to have a moment in private to steel himself and lament his ruined plan. Smiles, says yes, helps Wyoming through the work. Ends up with something a little less romantic than he’d hoped for. Promises to slip it into his locker when he sends Wyoming off to bed. Does. Steals an hour of sleep and when he wakes up and goes to the locker room and opens it he makes a big show of finding it, drawing the attention of all of the Freelancers and earning another round of protests from North.

And Florida ignores the ache in his chest while he smiles and teases and jokes and tries not to think about how it was supposed to go.


End file.
